


feeling my way through the darkness (guided by a beating heart)

by Kazekune



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Darkness Around Stiles's Heart, Hurt/Comfort, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Nemeton, Panic Attacks, Post Alpha Pack, Post season 3a, Stiles Feels, Suicidal Thoughts, boyd and erica are dead, but not really, derek left, he just misses derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-04 07:52:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazekune/pseuds/Kazekune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles grabbed his keys out of his backpack by the door and left before his dad could stop him. He needed out. He needed fresh air and sleep and food and he just needed to get away and breathe for a second.<br/></p>
<p>It felt like he was living with one great big giant panic attack without any chance of relief.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. /i can't tell where the journey will end/

**Author's Note:**

> I just started typing and this is what I ended up with because I love hurting Stiles and I love stories where he's angsty. The darkness around the heart thing doesn't really exist in this. I wanted Erica and Boyd alive but it didn't quite work like that. Title is from Wake Me Up by Avicii and so are the chapter titles.

3:45am.

He’d been staring at the clock for the past half an hour and had yet to succeed in falling asleep, making this the third night in a row.

He was slowly going crazy from the lack of sleep. School was hell and he was pretty sure he had failed that chemistry test yesterday. Which meant his grades were going to slip even further.

His dad was going to kill him.

Moaning in frustration, he kicked the sheets off of his overheated body and sat up slowly. He grabbed his head and tried vainly to rub away the growing headache but quickly gave that up too. Pills. He needed some major pills.

Tip-toeing out of his room and down the hall to the bathroom without waking his dad was second nature to him now and he quickly had some pain killers left over from his last hospital stay running through his system.

He almost cried from the absence of pain.

Grabbing the counter he stared at himself in the mirror, wincing at the sight of himself.

There were dark circles underneath his bloodshot eyes and his face was white as a sheet. His hair was in a perpetual bed head state and desperately need a cut. The most noticeable change however, was his weight loss.

He had always been on the skinny side, almost to the point of being underweight, but never had he resembled the skeleton he did now. Lifting up his t-shirt with one hand he ran the other over his protruding ribs and down to his sunken stomach. His appetite had been barely existent within the last week or two and it was really starting to show.

He dropped the shirt and flicked off the light, closing the bathroom door as he left. Knowing it’d be useless to try and sleep he made his way downstairs and the wonderful flat screen tv he and his dad had splurged together to buy. Late night infomercials were calling his name.

Settling down with a glass of milk and some toast Stiles Stilinski made himself comfortable for the last three hours to go before school started.

* * *

“Dude, you look like hell.” Well if there was one thing Stiles could count on it was that Scott McCall would never lie to him.

“Yeah, thanks buddy. I got that.” Stiles sighed as he sat down at his desk for first period. It was one of the only two classes he shared with his best friend besides lunch and sometimes he really wished he was one of the many unlucky people who never had classes with friends.

Yeah, sometimes he was a really horrible person. It kept him awake at night sometimes.

Stiles moaned in distress at the thought. He needed sleep.

“Are you okay Stiles?” Scott’s worried voice broke through his depressing thoughts, like a soothing balm on a burn.

“Yeah, just haven’t been getting much sleep. I’ll be fine though. How was your date with Allison last night?” Using Allison as a distraction was a tactic Stiles used often and if Scott still hadn’t picked up on that after this long, then, well, Stiles’ wasn’t going to say a thing.

He paid attention to Scott’s romantic movie retelling of his amazing date with the lovely real-life Disney princess Allison only because going back to his dark thoughts was something he wanted to avoid for as long as possible.

At lunch, he ignored the worried looks that not only Scott, but also the rest of his friends kept shooting him and merely focused on pushing the food around on his plate. He did manage to eat an apple though. He was proud of that fact up until he almost puked it back up ten minutes later.

Getting through the rest of the school day was a feat that Stiles, to this day, could not explain how he accomplished but accomplish he did and

_Thank fucking god it was Friday._

He turned down Scott’s offer to play video games with him and Isaac, using the ‘he wanted to spend some time with his dad before his late shift’ card, when in actuality he was going to go home and maybe finally get some sleep because he swore he might break down crying if he didn’t.

Seriously.

He miraculously survived the drive home and almost cried in relief at the sight of his wonderful bed. Never again would he take it for granted.

Okay, maybe he would.

One hour later had Stiles staring at his ceiling with tears stinging his eyes. Bringing shaking hands up to his face, he wiped them out of the corner of his eyes and left his hands there, heels of his palm digging in to try and get some relief.

No such luck.

He drew in a shaky breath and let out a small sob as he let it back out.

It was like right after his mom had died and he had had trouble sleeping for months afterwards alongside almost daily panic attacks.

Stiles knew that this was different though. There was no reason for his sudden insomnia.  His dad was eating healthier and his cholesterol was making its way back to normal, Scott and the rest of his friends were safe, the Alpha Pack was finally gone, and there had been no mentions of supernatural around town at all for the last couple of months.

So Stiles should be just as happy and energetic as Scott and everyone else. He should be the usual awkward, snarky, clumsy guy he was known to be.

Not this tired, depressing, severely underweight creature with slowly slipping grades and social abilities.

Not that he had many to begin with.

“Stiles?”

Shit! He hadn’t even heard his dad come in!

Scrambling out of bed, Stiles gave one last wipe at his eyes to make sure all of the tears were gone before making his way downstairs to where his dad was unpacking groceries in the kitchen.

“Hey dad, didn’t hear you come in. How was work?” Stiles took a seat at the kitchen table, his fingers finding the edge of the placemat to play with. He watched his dad put the food in their appropriate spots, his stomach grumbling at the sight of it. The thought of actually eating any of it though, had him almost running to the bathroom to vomit.

“It was fine, just your usual traffic stops and Friday night drunks getting started early. How was school?” His dad put the last of the groceries away and turned around to watch him, leaning against the counter with is arms crossed.

Stiles was wary. His dad never stood like that with that look on his face unless he knew something Stiles either a) didn’t know, or b) didn’t want him to know.

“It was fine, just your usual pop quizzes and devil teachers getting started early on the torturing.” His voice is full of his usual sarcastic tone but he winces as it breaks at the end into a huge yawn.

The look on his dad’s face intensifies.

“Very funny son. Didn’t get much sleep last night did you?”

Shit. Maybe Stiles wasn’t as quiet as he thought he was. Stealth _had_ never been one of his strong suits. Just ask Derek.

No, he promised himself he wouldn’t think of Derek.

Turning his attention back to his dad, Stiles let a shit eating grin grow on his face before answering,

“I got a little. Just had a bit of a stomachache so I thought I’d wait for it to go away before I tried to go back to sleep. Nothing serious.”

“Because nothing serious means it keeps you awake for three nights in a row. I’m not stupid Stiles. I’m the Sheriff remember? Nothing gets by me, not even my son’s sleeping patterns. Or lack thereof. Especially anything concerning my son’s health. And no you being involved in the supernatural doesn’t count. Now you want to really tell me what’s wrong? Is it because of what happened last month?”

Stiles winced but tried to cover it quickly with a cough but like his dad said, nothing gets by him.

“No, dad, I’m fine. It’s just a little bit of insomnia. It’s probably because I’m worried about finals. They are in a couple of weeks you kno-“

“STILES!” His dad’s voice roared through the kitchen, making Stiles flinch. His dad was standing over him at this point, his face scrunched up in anger. The scene of his dad holding a whiskey bottle and yelling at him at Lydia’s party last year flashed through his mind but he pushed that away as quickly as he could.

“Do not lie to me son. You think I didn’t notice how full the cabinets were before I put the groceries away, when usually they’re completely empty; or how you’ve been like a ghost, wondering the house for the past three nights; or your slipping grades; or the calls from your teachers saying that you’ve been spacy and inattentive more than you usually are? I’m worried about you Stiles. I know you’ve been doing the supernatural stuff for a while, which you are still not let off the hook about, but last month was pretty serious. And neither Scott nor Allison seem as affected as you when I’ve seen them around town on dates. There is something wrong going on with just you Stiles, and I’d like to know what.”

Stiles sat there silently and listened to his dad lay out all the facts. That silence broke at his dad’s last comment.

He let out a slightly manic sounding chuckle and clutched an arm around his panging stomach.

“You want to know what’s wrong with me dad? Really, truly, know? Well, let’s see. My mother died when I was ten years old and I’m the reason why. I’m the reason why my best friend is now a werewolf. I’m the reason why you lost your job and got into all that trouble with the city council. I got beat up by a geriatric psychopath and couldn’t do anything to stop it. I wasn’t smart enough to stop the alpha pack from killing Boyd and Erica and I should I have been. That’s my job. Derek is gone and I have no idea where he is. Sometimes I wish that when I went under that ice water I didn’t come back. That is what’s wrong with me dad. I am a complete mess, I haven’t slept in the last three days, and I have zero appetite.  I’m leaving now.” Stiles stood up and turned his back on his dad’s shocked and heartbroken expression. He didn't need to add anything else to his list of fuck ups.

Stiles grabbed his keys out of his backpack by the door and left before his dad could stop him. He needed out. He needed fresh air and sleep and food and he just needed to get away and breathe for a second.

It felt like he was living with one great big giant panic attack without any chance of relief.

* * *

 

Stiles honestly wasn’t surprised that this is where he ended up.

He sat outside of the apartment complex, his jeep still running, and clenched the steering wheel as he drew in deep breaths. He hadn’t been here since the night Boyd had died. Derek had left with Cora the day after and so he had had no reason to return.

Sighing, he made up his mind and turned off the jeep, checking his key ring to make sure he still had the key he had made without Derek’s permission or knowledge.

He walked up to the door and pulled it open, silently thanking whoever had built it that they hadn’t made it into a fancy ‘you must be buzzed up’ kind of apartment building like they had in New York and L.A.

Before long he was standing outside of aparment #3B.

Glancing down both ends of the hallway to make sure no one was watching, Stiles unlocked the door and slid inside.

The apartment was both the same and yet completely different. The furniture was gone, including the huge desk that Stiles, Derek, and Peter had used to keep all of their research on the alphas straight and neat. It had been a month since anyone had been inside of it so there was a layer of dust over the floor and the counters and you could barely see through the huge window at the end of the loft.

Stiles chose to ignore the blood stain where Boyd died that had remained despite the flooded floor that night.

He climbed the winding loft steps up to the bedroom that had been Derek’s despite how much time Peter had seemed to spend there.

Derek hadn’t bothered to remove the bed, probably finding it easier to leave it than dispose of it or put it in storage or whatever the hell he had done with the rest of the small amount of furniture he had owned. There was a layer of dust over it of course but Stiles ignored it and slipped in between the expensive thousand count sheets.

Leave it to Derek to splurge on everything else except comfortable sheets.

He flipped the single pillow over so the dusty side was down and buried his face in the equally comfortable pillowcase. Any smell that had been there was long gone but that didn't matter.

With the imaginary faint scent of trees and smoke drifting through his nasal passages, Stiles finally fell asleep for the first time in three days.

 


	2. /they say i'm caught up in a dream/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s like 90% of what’s going on with you.” Lydia’s voice was certain and sharp, her usual tone when she knew she was completely right. 
> 
> “What the hell do you mean?” Stiles turned into the entrance of the mall and pulled into an empty parking spot. He turned the Jeep off and turned towards Lydia, waiting in trepidation for her answer. He was positive he wasn’t going to like her answer. 
> 
> All she said on the matter however was,
> 
> “Derek Hale.”

Stiles woke up in what felt like years later. Checking his phone revealed that is was actually just eighteen hours later and that he had six missed calls from his dad and three and a text from Scott. He ignored his dad’s calls and voicemails and just sent a quick ‘I’m okay. Tell my dad for me’ to Scott, knowing he’d do as Stile’s asked.

Twenty minutes later his phone beeped with an incoming message.

 **Scott** –Are you sure?! I told him by the way. He told me to ask where you are. I’m not going to but you’re at a safe place right?

 **Stiles**   _> >_ **Scott** – Yes, I’m sure. My dad and I got into a confrontation last night is all and I had to get out. I’m safe. I promise. I’ll text you later.

Stiles set his phone down on the pillow and made his way downstairs. First things first, he had to get some food and he needed to move his Jeep so none of his dad’s countless deputies saw it and relayed his location back to his dad.

Derek’s loft still had all of the necessary cooking appliances With that in mind he got some junk food and some ingredients for things like sandwiches as well as some water for cleaning and drinking. He only planned on staying for a couple of days, just to get away from everyone and put himself back together as well as he could.

He only had to avoid one deputy on the way back to the apartment, but despite his pretty obvious blue Jeep, Stiles was pretty sure they hadn’t seen him.

He parked in the back lot of the complex and made his way up three flights of stairs with his groceries, cursing the broken elevator the entire way up. He would like to thank Finstock for all of those suicides they ran in lacrosse though.

Once inside, he got everything settled in a small area he had cleaned off before he left. He pulled out copious amounts of cleaning supplies and some rags and got to work.

It took him at least two hours just to clean the kitchen and by the end of it he was starving for the first time in a month. Going through the cabinets he decided on a simple PB&J, not wanting to eat anything heavier in case his stomach decided it still didn’t want food despite its protests.

He took the sandwich and a water up to the bedroom and slipped in between the sheets. Grabbing his phone, Stiles opened the three new texts he had received when he was out.

 **Scott** – Hey dude, your dad really wants you to call him. He says he’s not angry he just really wants to talk to you

 **Dad** – Stiles, please call me. I just want to make sure you’re okay son.

 **Lydia** –Stiles, we’re going out tonight. No exceptions.

Stiles stared at his phone for a couple of minutes before deciding to reply. He owed it to his dad at least.

 **Stiles** _> >_ **Scott –** Yeah, he texted me. I’ll text him back. Thanks buddy.

 **Stiles**   _> >_  **Dad** – I’m okay dad, I promise. I just, I can’t talk about it right now. At least give me the weekend. I’ll be home after school on Monday.

 **Stiles** _> >_   **Lydia** – I’m sorry Lyds, I’m really not in the mood to go out tonight. Raincheck?

He set down his phone and started in on his sandwich. He took small bites at first just in case but halfway through he decided his stomach was going to cooperate this time and he wolfed down the rest.

Heh. Wolfed.

He had made that joke to Derek once.

Walls really do hurt when you’re slammed into them.

Chuckling to himself, he made his way back downstairs to get another sandwich. He didn’t know when his stomach would next rebel against him so he wanted to eat as much as he could now. He grabbed a bag of chips, another sandwich, and a packet of cookies and climbed up the stairs to beeps from his phone signaling incoming texts. Stiles sighed and opened them.

 **Scott** – No problem. Text me if you need to talk.

 **Dad** – Okay, son. Just, be safe, and I’ll see you Monday. I love you

 **Lydia** – What did I say, Stiles?  No exceptions. Pick me up at 6.

 **Stiles** _> >_  **Scott** – Will do.

 **Stiles** _> >_  **Dad** – Thanks dad. I love you too.

 **Stiles** _> >_  **Lydia** – Fine, fine. Do I need to wear anything specific? Because I’m not home and I only have one set of clothes right now and I can’t go home to get anything.

Three minutes later his phone beeped.

 **Lydia** – There’s a story there. I expect to hear about it tonight. We’ll stop by the mall and get you something.

 **Stiles** _> >_ **Lydia** – As your highness commands.

 **Lydia** – Damn right I do.

Stiles laughed and set down his phone to polish off the rest of his food. He shoved the last cookie in his mouth and groaned in pain at the tight feeling in his stomach. After not really eating the past month, inhaling shit tons of junk food at once most likely wasn’t a good idea.

At least he wasn’t hungry anymore. Stiles shrugged and pushed the trash off the bed onto the dusty floor. He had more cleaning to do but he was still so exhausted. A nap would do him good. He would need a clear head to deal with Lydia tonight. He set an alarm for five on his phone and settled down.

Like the night before, he fell asleep instantly.

* * *

 

At exactly five o’clock Stiles awoke to the alarm on his phone. He moaned and buried his head back into the pillow but reached out a hand to fumble with it and turn it off. He had been having a wonderful dream that most certainly did not involve men with scruff and large muscles and eyes that didn’t believe in being one color and flashed blue occasionally, and who sometimes turned into a wolf-man.

Nope, didn’t involve that at all.

Stiles opened his eyes and stared blearily at his phone, cursing his inability to stand up to one Lydia Martin. He sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before pushing himself out of the sinfully comfortable bed. The thing was like sleeping on clouds. He debated stealing it for all of five seconds before realizing that Derek would kill him if he came back and his bed was missing.

 _If_ he came back.

He picked up his trash from the night before and brought it all downstairs, shoving it into one of the bigger shopping bags. He put away the cleaning supplies, telling himself he’d finish either tonight when he got back or tomorrow. Most likely tomorrow. Knowing Lydia, Stiles was almost positive he’d be too emotionally drained to accomplish anything after their _date_.

He checked to make sure he had his phone, keys, and especially his wallet. He knew he was going to end up paying for something tonight despite the size of Lydia’s personal bank account.

He glanced out into the hall to make sure no one was there before pulling the door closed and locking it. The last thing Stiles wanted was his dad to show up from a call about a squatter in an empty apartment.

He jogged down the three flights of stairs and out to his Jeep. He hopped in and headed towards Lydia’s house in the richer part of town.

Half an hour later he pulled up in front of what could only be called a miniature mansion. He pulled out his phone and fired off a text telling her he was outside. Three minutes later the red-haired queen pulled her front gate shut and climbed into the Jeep.

“The mall right?” Stiles asked her, already putting the Jeep into drive and turning around to head to the mall the next town over.

“Yes. The one on Burberry Street. Now, we can do this now or we can wait until we get to the restaurant.” Lydia turned towards him, her face telling him that it would happen no matter what, effectively cutting off his plea that he didn’t want to talk about it before he could even say anything.

Stiles sighed before saying,

“I want to say at the restaurant so I can put if off but I don’t want to risk anyone over hearing us and thinking I’m crazy.”

“Good choice.”

Silence fell around them for a few seconds before Lydia spoke up again.

“Well, are you going to start?”

“I’d rather not but I have no choice right? Well, ever since everything that went down last month I haven’t been able to sleep and I’ve had next to no appetite. I’m pretty sure I’m like dangerously underweight right now. More than usual. Anyway, I couldn’t sleep for the past three nights in a row and finally my dad confronted me about it last night. He told me he’d noticed my lack of sleep and my lack of appetite and demanded to know what’s wrong. He said it had to have been something more than just last month’s events because Allison and Scott and everyone else seemed fine.

So I told him everything that was wrong with me. That I had killed my mom, that Scott grows furry on the night of the full moon because of me, that he lost his job because of me, that it was my fault Erica and Boyd are dead, that I let Gerard beat me up and torture Erica and Boyd when I should have been able to stop him. That Derek is gone and I have no idea where he is or if he’s coming back and he’s not answering any of Isaac’s calls or texts.”

More silence. Lydia was staring at him, her bright brown eyes wide in surprise.

“Also, I may have told him that sometimes I wished I never woke up after we went under the water.”

Lydia brought her hands up to her mouth to cover the small gasp she let out, her face scrunching up in disbelief. Stiles almost congratulated himself. It took a lot to break Lydia’s usually perfect cold mien.

“Stiles! You aren’t serious are you? You wouldn’t…” Her voice was shaky like she was almost on the verge of tears.

“Hmm, what, kill myself. I don’t think I’d actually go through with it but sometimes I think about it. I couldn’t do that to my dad, especially after my mom. Or Scott. I don’t think Scott could physically survive without me the poor guy.” Stiles laughed it off, hoping to cut some of the tension and seriousness that was permeating the Jeep’s interior.

He’d also like to avoid a panic attack or two.

“Genim Stilinski! Don’t you just laugh it off like that! A lot more people than just your dad and Scott would miss you if you were gone. You’ve done a lot for a lot of people, including me, so don’t you talk like that.”

Stiles turned to her in surprise as his actual name came out of her mouth. Stiles had been adamant in making sure that no one but his Dad, Scott, and Mrs. McCall knew his actual name.

“How do you know- you know what, no, I’m not even going to ask.” Stiles turned back to watching the road. They had about ten minutes to go before they reached the only big mall in their area.

“And I know that, I do. It’s just, sometimes it gets too hard you know? I’m a seventeen year old in his final year of high school. The only thing I should be worrying about is getting girls and my grades. Instead I’m fighting old men who want too much power and werewolves. Of course it’s going to affect me somehow. I’d be more worried if it didn’t honestly.”

Stiles glanced over to her to watch her reaction. He braced himself when he saw her face go through a myriad of expressions. It was like she was slowly coming to a realization of some sort.

“You mean getting guys.”

Stiles choked on his own spit and almost crashed them into a tree. He swerved back onto the road and caught his breath.

“Out of all the things I just told you that was wrong with me and you could of reassured me on, you say that?!”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure that’s like 90% of what’s going on with you.” Lydia’s voice was certain and sharp, her usual tone when she knew she was completely right.

“What the hell do you mean?” Stiles turned into the entrance of the mall and pulled into an empty parking spot. He turned the Jeep off and turned towards Lydia, waiting in trepidation for her answer. He was positive he wasn’t going to like her answer.

All she said on the matter however was,

“Derek Hale.”

She opened the door and got out, not even bothering to wait for him before she started for the large double doors.

Stiles sat there in shock for a minute until what she said caught up to him. He scrambled out of the Jeep, almost forgetting to lock it and ran after her.

“Lydia! Lydia, will you slow down. What the hell do you mean by Derek?!”

“Stiles, answer me honestly. You said that you hadn’t gotten any sleep in the past three nights yet you show up and you look pretty rested to me. When you texted me you told me you weren’t home. I know you weren’t at Scott’s because I texted him to ask him what had happened but he told me the only thing that he knew was that you had gotten into an argument with your dad and had left but you wouldn’t tell him where you were only that you were safe.

So obviously you weren’t at Scott’s and you wouldn’t have gone to anyone else if you were upset. So tell me Stiles, where you last night and today?” She stopped before the entrance and turned to him, her arms crossed and her face still with that look.

Stiles was pretty sure she already knew but she just wanted him to admit it.

“I…I was…”

Stiles sighed and gave in.

“I was at Derek’s old apartment. Are you happy now?”

He walked past her and into the mall, heading towards the store where he usually shopped.

She caught up to him quickly with a smug smile on her face.

“Yes actually.”

Lydia didn’t say anything more on the matter nor did she comment about anything else that Stiles had told her on the way there. They picked up an outfit quickly, one that Lydia had chosen of course, and after paying for it and changing into it they headed back out to the Jeep and towards the restaurant. 


	3. /they say i'm too young to understand/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles was kind of thankful, whether it was unhealthy sounding or not, that he had those thoughts about the water. Because neither his dad, Lydia, nor Scott had even said one word on everything else that Stiles’ had confessed and those, honestly, were what were affecting him the most.

Thankfully Lydia hadn’t said anything else on the topic of Derek Hale or Stiles’ problems as they ate at the too expensive restaurant (that Lydia had gave in and paid for). They stuck to safe things like school and who was winning in the race for valedictorian (Lydia was, of course. Stiles grades had taken a sharp decline the past couple of months) and whether or not Allison and Scott were going to get their shit together and work something out because the sexual tension between Allison and Isaac was weird.

And the sexual tension between the three of them combined was even worse.

Ten minutes to ten found Stiles back at Derek’s apartment. He was exhausted with keeping up with Lydia all night as well as from her accusations and was looking forward to lying in that beautiful, comfortable cloud that normal people called a bed.

He wasn’t fucked up right now because of Derek. That was ridiculous. Yeah, maybe he missed the guy sometimes. They had gotten pretty close over the summer when they were looking for Erica, Boyd, and the Alpha Pack but that didn’t mean he went and like, fell in love with the werewolf or anything.

He chose to ignore the dream from the night before. That guy had just happened to look like Derek that was all. He probably just superimposed a guy he had seen the last time he went to Jungle with the ladies and stuck his face onto a really attractive body.

If there was anything Stiles was amazing at besides video games and research it was lying to himself. He could win like, a Best Award for Lying to Yourself, he was that good.

He had had plenty of practice after his mom had died of course and had only perfected the art over the years.

He shook his head to get rid of his ridiculous thoughts and fixed himself a light meal. Taking it and a bottle of water to the bedroom, he settled down and finished both off fairly quickly. He still had a lot of work to do to build himself back up to an acceptable weight and since he was able to eat without vomiting it back up right now, he was going to take advantage of it as much as possible.

He didn’t know what was going to happen after he left Derek’s. Stiles was smart despite what most people thought and yeah, he was totally lying to himself at the moment, but he was positive that being here at Derek’s loft had something to do with his sudden ability to eat and sleep and he knew that there was every possibility that he was going to regress once he left on Monday.

That was something he’d worry about when it happened. He plugged his phone in and went to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Stiles first order of business in the morning was to clean the rest of the loft. The bedroom, “living room”, and giant wall window needed cleaning as well as a more thorough wipe down of the kitchen and appliances despite their uselessness right now.

Stiles rifled through the cabinet where he had stored everything the day before and pulled out the things he would need. Grabbing the cheap bucket he had bought he filled it from a bigger container of water, added some wood cleaner and left it for a minute.

While that sat he pulled the sheets off the bed and hung them over the railing of the balcony and beat the dust out of the sheets and comforter as best as he could. He placed those back on the bed and then wiped off all the counters and swept the floors in preparation for mopping.

Once that was done Stiles took a step back to survey the room. Everything was as clean as it was going to get but in honest truth, it was probably the cleanest it had ever been. Derek had kept pretty good care of it despite everything that went on while he had lived here but there had never been enough time for a deep cleaning.

Stiles almost gave himself a pat on the back for all his hard work. Cleaning was second nature for him now however, since his mom, that it was just like cleaning his own house so he didn’t see much need to really congratulate himself.

He wasn’t done yet though. The large window on the north wall was still as grimy and dirty as it had been when Stile’s had first laid eyes on it. There was no way he was going to get to the outside of it but hopefully scrubbing the inside would allow a little more light to drift into the naturally dark loft.

Three hours later and Stiles almost sobbed in relief as he wiped off the final window pane.  He pulled the step ladder that he ended up going out to buy away from the window and pushed it to the side. The loft was visibly brighter now and diminished some of the creepy vibe the place gave off.

It was a drastic change.

Stiles put everything away and made dinner. Cleaning had taken him pretty much all day and he was starving and exhausted. He hopped up on the counter and sipped on his last bottle of water and took small bites of his sandwich. He had some things to plan and think about.

First things first, he had to figure out what he was going to say to Scott tomorrow morning at school. His best friend had probably been vibrating all weekend to know what had happened between Stiles and his dad. Stiles knew the only thing he could tell him was the truth; Scott was a living lie detector and his best friend after all. No secrets were held between them. It had been declared in second grade and that pact was now friendship law.

Both of them weren’t perfect however, and that pact had been broken plenty of times. Scott’s plan to use Derek against his will or knowledge to bite Gerard had been one of the biggest and most memorable ones to date though. It had taken Stiles a while to forgive Scott for that one and Scott knew he had fucked up big time; Stiles had told him as much. But if there was one thing Stiles couldn’t do no matter how hard he tried, it was hold a grudge against his best friend.

That didn’t mean Stiles had forgotten about it.

Stiles knew exactly how Scott would act if, _when_ , he told Scott the truth. The question was, did he tell Scott in the morning and get it over with and risk someone overhearing it or ask questions about why Scott McCall just broke down crying in the hallway, or wait after school and deal with Scott’s puppy eyed looks and nervous fidgeting all day?

Choices, choices.

Fuck it. Stiles would just figure it out in the morning. Whatever happens, happens.

He could deal with Scott, Scott was easy to handle.

It was his dad that Stiles was afraid to talk to. His dad had texted him a couple more times, mostly that work was fine and that he had had a veggie burger for lunch. Stiles knew it was only to let him know he wasn’t angry and to butter him up.

His dad hadn’t made Sheriff for nothing.

Fuck it. He’d just go with the flow with his dad as well.

Never let it be said that Stiles couldn’t make awesome plans. Sometimes however, you just have to see what happens and roll with it.

A lot of that had gone on in the past year.

 

* * *

 

The next morning Stiles packed up everything on his Jeep. He left all of the cleaning supplies and made plans to come back every once in a while and keep it clean.

He didn’t want Derek to have to do it when he got back. The werewolf deserved a break; even it was just from having to clean his apartment.

His dad usually went in super early on Monday’s so Stiles headed to his house and picked up his backpack. He hadn’t done any of the homework his teachers had assigned on Friday of course but Stiles honestly couldn’t care less. He’d use his finals and any extra credit assignments teachers gave out to give the slackers an extra leg up, and ace them and he’d make out with a B average fine enough.

Also Stiles had already been accepted to Berkeley with a full-ride to major in History and minor in Anthropology anyway so it _really_ didn’t matter.

No one knew yet though. Not any of the pack (not that there was much of one left), not Scott and certainly not Lydia. Hell, his dad didn’t even know. Oh, he had gotten a full interrogation about it once but Stiles had lied and just said he hadn’t heard anything back yet. He’d have to tell him soon though; his dad was getting suspicious.  

Maybe he would tell him tonight.

When Stiles pulled up to the school and into his usual parking space, Scott was waiting for him, his arms crossed and his crooked jaw clenched.

Stiles sighed. He guessed he’d be telling him everything this morning then. He grabbed his backpack and slid out of the Jeep, making sure he locked the doors. He slung the pack onto one shoulder and slowly walked up to his friend.

“Hey Scott. Have a nice weekend?” Deflection. Stiles was a man of many talents when it came to using the English language.

Scott, however, was not taking the bait this time it seemed.

“Yes, Stiles, it was wonderful considering I spent all of it worrying about my best friend who had a fight with his dad, which almost never happens by the way, and then disappeared to god knows where!” Scott huffing by the end of it, his arms hanging by his side and his hands clenched into tight fists. Stiles almost flinched in surprise at the blood dripping from one of them. His claws had probably slipped out by accident.

“Dude, I told you I was fine and that I was safe. I would have told you exactly what happened but I just wasn’t ready to talk about it. I promise I’ll tell you everything; either right now if you want or later, after school, okay buddy?” Stiles placed his hands out in front of him hoping to placate the werewolf whom, oh shit, was actually getting angrier.

“No, Stiles, it’s not okay! You want to know why? Because _Lydia freaking_ _Martin_ came up to me this morning and told me to go on easy on you so obviously she knows. Now, want to explain to me why Lydia knows and not me? Huh? Cause I would really like to know Stiles.” And now there was a flash of red.

Stiles sighed, frustrated and in pain from a newly formed headache. Maybe the regression was already starting. Or maybe he was just really tired of having to deal with people. He knew Scott was only concerned about him, that was just the kind of person he was and he appreciated it, he did, but Stiles really just wanted to relax and take a breath and just go to class and then go home.

He knew from the start he’d have to do this though, so might as well get it over with.

“Alright, I’ll tell you, but not here. I don’t want anyone overhearing or starting rumors about you. The locker room should be empty. No one has gym until third period and Finstock never comes in before that.”

Stiles grabbed Scott’s arm and dragged him around the building, entering the outside entrance to the locker room just as the bell for first period resonated within the room. Stiles slipped his backpack off his shoulders onto the floor and took a seat on one of the benches against the wall. He leaned back and closed his eyes, head resting against the cool tiles.

“Alright, long story short, I haven’t been sleeping or eating well since the whole nemeton business. It’s gotten worse pretty much in the past week. My dad noticed because I had been up for three straight days in a row and confronted me about it. He asked me what was wrong with me and why I’m so much worse off than you or Allison. I told him it was because a lot of the things that’s happened to us and myself is my fault. My mom, your wolfiness, my dad losing his job, Erica and Boyd, Gerard torturing me, and a whole slew of other stuff. And there you have it Scott. There’s the whole story.”

Silence, until Scott’s voice rang out, a growl right behind it.

“No, its not.”

Stiles wasn’t surprised that Scott picked up on the fact that there was more. The teenager definitely wasn’t academically smart nor was he street smart half the time, but sometimes Scott picked up on things most people normally wouldn’t. Also, it didn’t help Stiles in the slightest that the two have been friends since the second grade and therefore Scott knew the ways Stiles and his dad worked all too well.

“No, it’s not. I also told my dad that sometimes I wished I never came back up out of the water.”

And three, two, one…

“Stiles!” Scott let out a high pitched whine and threw himself at Stiles who was still sitting on the bench. The force of the werewolf knocked the breath out of him but Stiles caught himself quickly and held on tight to his best friend who was still letting out pathetic sounding animalistic whines and whimpers. This, Stiles guessed would happen without a doubt.

“Hey, buddy, its okay. It’s only a thought and I would never actually do anything like that to myself. It’s just too much sometimes, you know? I don’t know what’s going on with me or why it’s happening but I’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out. We always do in the end.”

They sat there for what was probably close to twenty minutes before Scott finally pulled his face out from where it had been buried in Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles didn’t even glance at the wet spot the other boy had left on his sweatshirt; his gaze was steady and focused on Scott, who wiped at his face with the sleeve of his shirt. He adopted a submissive state and kept his eyes focused on the ground in front Stile’s shoes, his form towering over him. His voice, however, came out strong and clear.

“You promise me you won’t? You promise me that if it ever gets so bad you actually consider doing something you’ll talk to me or your dad or hell, even Danny if that’s what it takes, about it so we can help you?”

Stiles stood up and placed a hand under Scotts chin, forcing the other boys head up to stare him straight in the eyes.

“I promise you Scott that I will talk to someone if it gets to be too much.” Stiles made his own voice just as clear and strong and nodded in finality when Scott’s eye’s flashed red. Stiles didn’t have to be a werewolf to know what his friend’s wolfy tells were. Scott believed him.

The bell rang just a minute later.

“Good, now that that’s over, let’s go to class. Just because I can save myself from failing this year doesn’t mean I can afford to skip any classes. And we’re not even going to talk about you, buddy.” Stiles picked up his backpack and slung his arm around Scott’s shoulders, dodging the friendly punch from his free hand.

“Wait, you never told me where you stayed over the weekend.”

“That will remain a secret, Scott, until I figure things out. Trust me, I’m as safe as I can be there but I just can’t tell you yet.”

Stiles watched a myriad of emotions go across Scott’s face before settling on what seemed reluctant acceptance.

“Alright, I’ll take your word on it this time. Just, let me know when you figure things out?”

“Totally dude.”

Stiles was kind of thankful, whether it was unhealthy sounding or not, that he had those thoughts about the water. Because neither his dad, Lydia, nor Scott had even said one word on everything else that Stiles’ had confessed and those, honestly, were what were affecting him the most.

They walked out into the hallway and disappeared into the flow of students. 

 

 


	4. /i tried carrying the weight of the world/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the fourth chapter. It took me longer than I wanted but I've been busy the past couple of days and my nights have been spent playing Grandia III because it's entirely too addicting. I apologize for any mistakes as it's not beta'd and I honestly hate rereading my own stuff. Enjoy!

The rest of the day Stiles only had to struggle a little bit to catch up with his classes but mostly he did better than he had expected. His teachers only slightly reprimanded him for his unfinished homework but it didn't count for much of his grade, and yeah, he still couldn't care less. 

He spent lunch with Scott, Lydia, Isaac, and Danny and refused to comment or even  _think_  about the fact that their group of friends were slowly dwindling in numbers. Just the hint of a thought about Erica, Boyd, and hell, even Jackson, sent searing pain ripping through his chest and left him short of breath.

At least Jackson was still alive. And was probably still a huge douchebag; except now he was a European douchebag. A werewolf in London. The irony never failed to amuse him.

Stiles still missed him though.

He also still refused to talk about Derek. Even when Lydia mentioned him near the middle of lunch, Stiles deftly changed the subject to finals. Despite his mind accepting the fact that his absence was the cause of everything going on with him (thank you for that Lydia. Note the sarcasm), Stiles still couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“Stiles!”

Stiles brought his head up from where it had been hanging down while he had been locked in his thoughts and laid his eyes on Lydia’s annoyed face.

“Yes Lydia,” asked Stiles, confused as everyone’s concerned eyes stared him down.

“I was asking you if you had heard back from your college yet. Danny and I have been accepted to MIT with a full-ride and Isaac and Scott are going to the local community college. You applied to Berkeley right?”

Stiles scrunched his face up in confusion. MIT? They were going all the way on the other side of the country? He hadn’t even known that was where Lydia had applied, much less Danny, but it didn’t surprise him. They both were certainly smart enough for it. But just, all the way over there?

Stiles picked up his milk carton and started to pull it apart. He got antsy when he was nervous.

“Umm, yeah, about that…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. He didn’t know why. He had gotten accepted to a pretty good school with a full-ride and that was great, his dad and everyone would be proud, but just the thought of leaving everyone and actually going there? Yeah, he didn’t like to think about that either.

King of denial, he was.

“Oh Stiles, honey, did you not get...?” Lydia’s voice was hesitant and full of pity, completely out of character for her.

“No!...I did, it’s just…I don’t like the thought of leaving my dad and everyone, you know? I mean, it’s just been me and him ever since my mom died and he’s completely useless when it comes to feeding himself and cleaning and he just really wouldn’t survive without me,” Stiles turned to Scott and continued, “And we’ve been best buds since second grade and I may have developed an attachment issue when it comes to you and the thought of not seeing you every day makes me want to puke.”

_And the thought of leaving the last place **he** had been almost sent him into a panic attack_

Stiles kept his eyes on his milk carton, not wanting to see everyone’s concern and pity. When the bell rang signaling the end of lunch before anyone could speak up, Stiles almost sobbed in relief. The last thing he wanted was to continue this conversation. Actually, if this conversation could never happen again, that’d be great.   

He’d rather talk about his personal guilt and suicidal thoughts than talk about everyone leaving, including himself.

 

* * *

 

Stiles managed to avoid his friends the rest of the day and concentrated on just getting through his classes. He wasn’t looking forward to the conversation with his dad that night but he’d rather have that discussion than the one at lunch.

When he got home, his dad’s cruiser was already in the driveway. He pulled up next to it and turned off the ignition and just sat there. He drew in deep breaths and mentally prepared himself for the coming interrogation. It was always an interrogation with his dad; he probably didn’t mean it to be, but he was the Sheriff, it was an old habit.

As prepared as would ever be, Stiles exited his Jeep and made his way into the house. He closed the front door and set his backpack next to the coat hanger like he always did before making his way into the living room where he could hear the television. His dad was sitting in his recliner, a beer in one hand and the remote in the other. His eyes were closed and his breathing was deep.

Stiles drew in a breath and let it out slowly. He hated to wake his dad, the man worked too hard and didn’t rest as much as he should, but Stiles knew his dad would yell at him for coming home without waking him.

He lightly shook his dad and waited as his eyes slowly opened, confusion in them before realization hit. He sat up quickly and drew Stiles into a tight hug.

It didn’t take long before the tears started. He hadn’t planned on them but these things happened and it felt good to cry every once in a while.

It took him around fifteen minutes before he could actively breathe and his tears slowed down before stopping completely. He drew back from his dad’s embrace and wiped at his eyes and nose, grimacing in disgust at the wet patch it left on his sleeve, matching the one on his dad’s shoulder.

Stiles wiped at it in vain and apologized.

“Don’t you ever apologize to me son. Not for something like this. You did nothing wrong. Now, are you ready for that conversation?” Straight to the point, his dad was. Stiles nodded and they headed in the kitchen to make some food and much needed coffee. For the both of them.

They settled down at the table and ate in silence, each caught up in their own thoughts. Eventually they both finished and pushed their plates away from them; Stiles’ idly sipped at his coffee while waiting for his dad to start.

“First off, are you sure you’re okay?” His dad asked, his fingers playing with the handle of his coffee mug but his eyes focused intensely on Stiles.

“Generally? Yeah, I’m good. I’m just your average teenage kid who’s doped up on Adderall so he can think at the pace of normal people, runs with werewolves on a daily basis, and has suicidal thoughts from time to time. But overall I’m okay.” He wasn’t being his usual sarcastic self this time-he was just honestly stating the facts. His dad, it seemed, thought otherwise.

“Stiles…”

“I’m really okay, dad, I promise. Like I told Scott this morning, I would never actually _do_ anything about those thoughts, I could never do that to you or Scott or any of the pack, but sometimes, like this past month, that’s all I can think about.”

And here was the point where Stiles couldn’t decide if he should tell his dad about Derek or not. Despite Derek redeeming himself, he still wasn’t on his dad’s list of favorite people - and may never be- but to fully explain everything he needed to talk about the werewolf.

He just wasn’t sure if he could. As he explained what was going on to more and more people, Derek was becoming more and more predominant in his mind. Before the worst mall trip of his life, Stiles had kept Derek in a tiny box in the back of his mind, shut tight with a padlock and no obtainable key in sight. Lydia’s revelation had burst Derek out of that box with werewolf like strength and now Stiles’ head was more of a mess than usual.

“Stiles, I need you to talk to me here. You can’t expect me to just take what you said on Friday without an explanation. I know that look on your face and I know there’s something else you’re not telling me,” his dad says, eyebrows furrowed in concern but his voiced laced with impatience and frustration. It was a common thing nowadays –and Stiles had almost come to expect it every time his dad talked to him.

Alright, he could do this. He could tell his dad that the werewolf that had once been arrested for murder, had bitten three young teenagers –two of which were now dead-, and had caused a whole slew of other problems was the cause for Stiles, well fuck, _depression_.

All because he fucking _missed_ the guy.

Or well, that’s the only reason Stiles could come up with.

It wasn’t like the guy was fucking dead. He just left Beacon Hill’s without a goodbye or an explanation to anyone. He was such an _asshole._

His dad was getting angrier the longer Stiles stayed silent though so it was now or never

“Well, the kind and beautiful Lydia Martin,” his voice was as sarcastic as he could make it, “has informed me that I’m like this right now because of one werewolf named _Derek fucking Hale_. Don’t ask me why because I don’t know and if Lydia does, she has yet to inform me why,” explained Stiles, his voice shaky from holding himself back from breaking out into almost manic laughter at the surprised look on  his dad’s face.

“Yeah, that was my reaction too. I have no fucking clue why him being gone is affecting me like this and it’s not like I have any of his contact info to ask him, but I’d like to know why and how to fix it. Because he’s probably never coming back –I couldn’t actually blame him if he didn’t though- and I refuse to live like this forever. I want to graduate high school and go to college without being in a perpetual state of exhaustion thanks. So either he’s got to come back or I’m going to have to move into his old apartment permanently.” Stiles sat back into his chair from where he had been leaning forward more and more as his voice rose in his anger. He waited with bated breath as his dad processed everything and thought about where to begin.

“Okay, that was a lot. So to recap, Derek Hale is the reason why you can’t sleep and you have no appetite?”

“Yup, pretty much.”

“And it’s because you…miss him?”

“Apparently.”

“And you’re going to college?”

“Got accepted into Berkeley with a full-ride to major in History and minor in Anthro. I meant to tell you but everything was still going on and I never got the chance.”

“And you couldn’t tell me after things died down, why?”

Fuck, this is why he didn’t want to tell his dad. He knew he was going to ask that question which would lead into that damn conversation he just had at lunch. But he wouldn’t be saved by the bell this time.

“Because the thought of leaving you by yourself and leaving the pack makes me want to either puke or have a panic attack,” explained Stiles quietly. He kept his eyes trained on his empty coffee mug and pulled at the tablecloth with shaky fingers.

“Son…that’s…you shouldn’t have to worry about me. I’m the adult and that’s my job, not yours. And your friends are fully capable of taking care of themselves. That’s not your job either.” His dad’s voice was quiet and laced with understanding.

Stiles let out a laugh and almost knocked his cup over in a fit of jittery flailing.

“You don’t understand! It _is_ my job! It’s my job to make sure you eat healthy and get plenty of rest because mom isn’t here to do it anymore and it’s my job to take care of the pack because _Derek_ isn’t here to do it anymore –not that he did a good job when he _was_ here but he tried his best and I will _always_ acknowledge and remember that- and Scott needs to focus on his schoolwork so he can actually graduate and no one else can do it. They need someone to be there for them to function and I need for them to be okay when Derek comes back because the last thing Derek needs to do is fix his pack _again._ ”

Stiles was standing at this point, his mug laying in shards on the ground, and his entire body shaking with pent up energy.

“It’s my job dad and it’s just something I need to do. I do the research when it’s needed, I make sure everyone is doing okay in school –well, mostly Scott and sometimes Isaac-, I make sure their wounds heal okay, and I’m there to save them when no one else can. I failed Erica and Boyd and no one will ever convince me it wasn’t my fault no matter what they say or what evidence they present to me.

I spent the entire summer searching for them with Derek and Peter and I should have been able to find them but I was too late dad. Erica was already gone and, yeah, we got Boyd out alive, but I couldn’t figure out a way to defeat the Alpha Pack quick enough and they made Derek kill him. Like Derek didn’t have enough on his goddamn plate!”

Stiles had no idea he had all of this buried inside of him but it was the perfect time to let it all out. His emotions were raging through him and he could barely see through the tears that had snuck up on him. Crying twice in one day and only within a couple of hours apart was a new record for him.

“So now Derek is _fucking_ gone, I’m slowly going crazy, and everyone else is going to leave me too and I don’t think I can handle that along with everything else at this point!”

He was breathing hard now, too hard, his breaths coming in quick and short. Stiles recognized the feeling, knew it like it was a familiar friend. It was all he knew for the months after his mom had died-occurred a couple of times a day, to at least once a day, to a couple a week until they slowly stopped.

He was about to have a panic attack.

His dad was quick to act, also recognizing the signs, and he stood up quickly and approached Stiles. He put his hand on Stiles shoulder, forcing him to sit back down in his chair and kept pushing until he put his head between his knees. There was no way to stop it at this point, he was too far gone, so all they could do was ease his way through it the best they could.

They sat there, Stiles in the midst of the attack, and his dad on his knees in front of him, arms around Stiles, holding him tight and secure.

It took nearly twenty minutes before he could breathe properly again and when he finally came out of it he was on the couch curled up into his dad’s side, his face buried into the Sheriff’s shoulder.

He controlled his breathing through the rest of the after rush and after another ten minutes he felt almost normal again.

He was beyond exhausted and he just wanted to sleep and the thought of his bed almost had him moaning in relief. What he let out instead was a huge yawn. He felt his dad chuckle from where was still buried into his side, and snuggled into the hand that came up to run through his hair.

“I know how the attacks exhaust you, so I’m going to hold off on the rest of your interrogation,” Stiles let out a snort. He and his dad thought too much alike sometimes, “and let you head to bed. I’m off tomorrow so I’ll drive you to school and pick you up okay, son?”

“Sounds goo-,”another yawn broke through before he continued, “sounds good. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Stiles pulled himself out of his dad’s warm embrace with regret but his equally warm bed was calling to him and Stiles’ resistance was futile.

He said good night to his dad and headed up to his room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://stiles-is-my-king.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
